


Potatoes

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [172]
Category: The Martian - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, and he has to eat it, they name a potato after Mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8046055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: Someone who thinks their funny names a potato after Mark.Some journalist looking for a fluffy page-filler insists he eat it.





	Potatoes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece from Tumblr.
> 
> Mark eats potatoes. He does not like potatoes.

Mark is pretty sure that they think it’s funny. Or an honor, or something. Mark Watney, the man saved by some fortuitously packed spuds and mad botany powers, has a potato named after him. Proof, really, of his botany prowess.

It is funny, too, and honorable–or, at least, as much of any of that that brings him any more excess attention can be–at least, it is until the mainstream media get their hands on it.

It takes them a while to get the news. Mark has a fleeting hope that he’s passed the news cycle now, but then the news breaks and he realizes that they’re just slow when it comes to science.

“In other news, scientists have named a new species of potato after astronaut Mark Watney, the man famous for…”

Mark huffs and turns off the TV. He knows full well what he’s famous for.

He hates the continued media circus. Still, a potato named after him…that’s pretty cool. Not everyone can say that.

And that’s all there is to it. Until some journalist gets it into her head that she wants to do some fluff piece, letting the world watch Mark eat _solanium watneyi_  for the first time. Annie at NASA tells him he has to go. That they want to launch Ares IV at some point this decade, and they need public goodwill to get funding to make rockets fly. And that, apparently, is Mark’s job.

“Can I get it as tater tots?” Mark asks. Mars made him averse to potatoes, but a tater tot doesn’t sound so bad.

They give it to him mashed. Mark makes a face at the bowl. It’s better that baked, but it’s still…

_Potato._

_“_ How’s it feel to have a potato names after you?” the reporter asks.

“Pretty cool,” Mark says. “I mean, it’s no colonizing Mars, but as far as things here on Earth go…”

She laughs. Mark’s always liked being the funny one, so he smiles right back.

He’s enjoying himself far less when she asks, “Aren’t you going to try them?”

He hides his shudder, but obligingly takes a bite. He swallows, then smiles. “Tastes great.”

When this is over, he’s getting a burger. Two patties. Bacon. Onions, pickles, the whole nine yards.

And absolutely not a single goddamn french fry.


End file.
